


Growing Pains

by Ephermeralk



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:09:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephermeralk/pseuds/Ephermeralk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen’s got an itchy blister on his back. It has two eyes, a nose and a mouth. It also has a name: Jared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> Not mine. Written for a prompt a J2_prompts on LJ.

If Fridays could be slowly strangled, held underneath water until they drowned, or taken outback and mercilessly shot, Jensen wouldn’t hesitate. In Jensen’s book, Fridays officially suck; they mean working late, getting stuck in weekend traffic, and declining repeat invitations from his friends to indulge in copious quantities of alcohol and sex.

His partying days ended a little over a year ago, with a promotion and the start of sixty-hour work weeks. And while Jensen wouldn’t say no to throwing back some Johnny Walker and having his dick sucked by a hot guy, he just doesn’t feel like putting in the leg work tonight.

Jensen skips dinner in favor of a hot shower, but it’s not until he’s been under the warm spray for a few minutes that he notices the itch. It starts as an involuntary twitch in his lower back, and Jensen immediately feels the need to scratch it.

He turns the water up a few degrees as he digs his nails into the skin and muscle covering his spine. The itch moves up his back—and can itches even fucking do that? Jensen only has a moment to ponder before the itching intensifies just below his right shoulder blade, where he can’t quite reach.

“A man can’t get one decent Friday after a long week, C’mon,” He huffs angrily in the general direction of the showerhead and bangs his fist on the tile wall.

Jensen resigns himself to getting out of the shower, towels off, and focuses on finding some Ocean Potion to put on his back. He roots around in the cupboard for awhile, because it’s November, and there’s no reason that he should need to smother his back with Lidocaine, except that he can’t focus on anything but this itch, which is now starting to tingle in a vaguely unpleasant manner.

“Aha!” Jensen says out loud to no one in particular as he pulls out the bottle of bright blue liquid. He lives by himself, with the exception of Norman, his hermit crab, and talking out loud has simply become habit.

He squeezes the cold gel into his hand, turns so that his back faces the mirror and looks over his shoulder. Red marks from his nails score his skin all the way up his back to what looks to be a the beginnings of a blister. Jensen spreads the numbing lotion over his back to the best of his ability, and wishes, not for the first time in his life, that his elbows were double jointed.

Jensen can’t wait for this Friday to end. This damn itching blister has robbed him of his usual routine which revolves around putting on sweatpants, and sitting in front of his flat screen T.V. with a bottle of wine and pay-per-view porn.

He settles for reaching for a bottle of both Benadryl and Ambien in his medicine cabinet. Jensen smiles for the first time this evening as he downs the small pills, then heads towards his room, sprawls on his bed and waits for the glorious feeling of unconsciousness to overtake him; Saturdays are always better.

 

The first sensation Jensen is met with when he opens his eyes is a throbbing in his back. He looks at the clock. Two-o-clock in the fucking afternoon. He hasn’t eaten, or run, or dusted off his remote control helicopter. He considers just calling it a day and going back to sleep, but the ache in his back and bladder hijack his body back towards the bathroom.

He shakes off the last few drops, tucks himself back into his shorts, and then ventures a look in the mirror; he needs to know if he’s about to spend the rest of his day in a waiting room at Urgent Care.

A pair of hazel eyes blinks and stares back at him.

Jensen almost faints.

“Deep breaths, Jensen. _Deep motherfucking breaths_ ,” he says to himself as he braces his hands against his thighs.

Didn’t the bottle of Ambien state it could cause hallucinations? That’s what it had to be. A figment of his overactive imagination due to a unique combination of a drug and physical pain.

Jensen chances a glance back into the mirror.

Nope, the eyes are still there. Plus, now they’re smirking at him. Jensen gives them his best death glare over his shoulder.

Going to the hospital is clearly out of the question; he’ll either end of with half of his back removed, or deep in an underground lab at Area 51. Hell, the government even acknowledged its existence a few months back. He doubts there are support groups for people growing extra organs in the wrong places.

He reminds himself to google that later.

Sometimes, when Jensen doesn’t have good ideas, he just goes with the bad ones. Last time, that involved his friends duct taping a couch to the top of his SUV with him inside, while drinking straight gin out of a flask accompanied by a single Journey CD.

Currently, Jensen’s going for putting on a shirt, pretending he doesn’t have a pair of intelligent eyes on his back, and downing whiskey until he passes out.

 

When he awakens at seven in the evening he finds that the eyes in his back have gained the addition of a nose. Jensen stares. It’s broader than his own, and turns up at the end of an otherwise straight line. He watches the nostrils flare out minutely as if it’s breathing. The fox slanted eyes meet his again, and Jensen thinks for a moment that at least he’s growing the start of a very attractive face in his back.

Then one of the slightly-brown eyes winks at him. Jensen pulls his shirt down and stalks out of the bathroom.

He considers going straight back to the couch, and his bottle of whiskey, but it will be Sunday soon, and Jensen needs to call Jeff to tell him he won’t be at the office on Monday. He picks up the phone and dials; for once in his life, Jeff doesn’t answer. Jensen sends a quick thank you to the higher powers, before remembering he’s stuck growing another life form in his back.

“Hey Jeff, this is Jensen. Look, I know it’s kind of sudden, but we had a death in the family and I have to go back to Texas for a few days. Anyways, not sure quite how long it’ll be yet, but I’m of course bringing my phone and my laptop, so just send me anything that needs to get done. I’ll call when I board the plane back here. See you in a few days, Jeff.”

Jensen hangs up the phone, and resigns himself to fixing some pasta in the kitchen. He hasn’t felt this hungry in months.

Jensen decides that repression might be better than outright killing his liver, so he puts on Grand Theft Auto, and steals cars like a pro until he can crawl back into his king sized bed. He tells himself he’s laying on his side because it simply feels better than on his back, and falls asleep easily.

 

“Uhmm...hey, it’s kind of dark in here. Any chance you could make it a little bit lighter? It’s just, I get kind of claustrophobic when I can’t see anything.”

Jensen bolts up, and out of bed. He looks around for the owner of the not-quite-as-deep-as-his voice. There’s no one.

He prods Norman. Norman scuttles to the other side of his terrarium, but doesn’t speak.

“Err...can you hear me? I’d really like to get this blindfold off if possible?”

Jensen feels the familiar reverberation of air passing over vocals chords emanate from his body, but not his throat. Which means...Jensen scrambles into the bathroom and tears off his shirt and fuck, _hypothesis valid_.

“Oh, hey! Thanks a bunch, I was really starting to feel queasy, not being able to see anything.”

Jensen stares at the fully functioning face in his back; it has eyes, and a nose, and a mouth, and it’s talking to him.

Jensen coughs. He has not had enough to drink in order to have a conversation with a separate entity that currently inhabits his back. He manages to get out a “Sure, no problem,” before heading over to the thermostat, because there’s no way he’s walking around half naked and cold all day.

He puts on some coffee and grabs his now half-empty bottle of whiskey. While it’s not the first day he’s ever started drinking at nine in the morning, he has an acceptable excuse today. He might not make it through the day if he stays sober.

“So, do you think you could go easy on that stuff today,” says the voice in his back as he downs his first shot. “It kind of makes me feel funny on the inside, and then I can’t see too well.”

Jensen just adds another inch or so into his coffee, and retorts “It’s supposed to make you feel like that, buddy. That’s the point.”

“Oh. My name’s not Buddy, you know. I have a name, and it’s Jared.”

“Great. It has a name,” Jensen says under his breath. No response. He sighs.

“Hi, Jared. I’m Jensen, the guy you’re in.”

Jensen regrets that sentence the minute it leaves his mouth. Not that he’d mind having a guy in him, but preferably a penis only. Not a whole body and consciousness.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I don’t think I’ll be inside you much longer.”

“It doesn’t”

“Oh.”

Luckily, Jared manages to stay quiet as Jensen eats his breakfast of eggs and half a grapefruit. It doesn’t last long.

“What are we doing today? Can we go outside, it’s stuffy in here.”

“Nothing, and no, I’m not going outside,” Jensen states. “I’m staying right here and doing nothing besides work, watching T.V., and pretending you don’t exist.”

“Oh,” Jared says again, this time sounding like a kicked puppy.

“Look, Jared, you seem like a great guy. It’s just, I’d really prefer that you weren’t in my back. I don’t do well with sharing my body.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jared sounds unconvinced. “Can I watch some television while you work?”

Jensen can’t really say no, and Jared wants to watch Animal Planet which is kind of cute, in a geeky sort of way, so he turns his back in just the right direction.

“That ok, Jared?”

“Yup.” Then after a few minutes of blissful silence “Can we get a dog? I think I’d really like one.”

Jensen doesn’t bother answering. He doesn’t want Jared in his back, and he sure as hell doesn’t want a dog.

 

On Monday, Jensen wakes up with morning wood. The prominent ache in his balls reminds Jensen that he hasn’t gotten off since Thursday due to a combination of drinking and Jared.

He reaches down into his briefs and takes hold of his dick. It’s warm and the tight grip of his hand feels perfect going up and down the shaft. Jensen pumps his hips forward, and feels precome start to drip out of the slit. He thumbs into it, spreading it around the head, making the slide through his hand just a little bit easier.

Then he hears a groan, and it’s sure as hell not his own.

“Oh God, keep going, that feels amazing.”

It’s Jared. And it should make his dick soften immediately, but instead, Jensen feels the need strip his cock faster.

“Yeah, just like that.”

Jensen hasn’t felt this dirty in a long time. He thumbs at the collection of nerves right underneath the head of his dick, and smirks when he hears Jared let out a string of expletives.

“That’s right, Jared,” He says. “We’re going to come, and it’s going to be the best thing you’ve ever felt.”

He takes his hand off his dick for a second to palm at his balls, which are tightening fast. He reaches with his other hand to keep working up and down his shaft. He hears Jared take short, shallow breaths, and then he’s losing his rhythm, hand and hips jerking disjointedly.

The relief of warm come spraying the inside of his hand and up his stomach is countered by the sound of tearing, and the worst possible pain shooting up and down his spinal cord.

Jensen blacks out.

 

When Jensen comes to this time, his vision is a little blurry, but he follows the slightly fuzzy line of a man’s long torso and legs all the way past the end of his bed. Jensen’s never seen a live moose, but he would put money down that this man could easily give one a run for its money; in size, weight, and equally proportional genitalia.

On the second glance, Jensen thinks he recognizes the slanted eyes which are now closed, followed by a pointy nose with a mole close by, lips that are broader yet less full than his, and familiar floppy hair.

Jensen screams.

It’s a few octaves higher than he’s imagined in his mind, but the entity living in his back for the past few days _“Jared”_ , his mind helpfully supplies, is now a completely overgrown and naked man in his bed, so Jensen tells himself there will be plenty of time to scream in a low and manly fashion later.

He watches in what appears to be slow motion as Jared wakes up at the sound of his voice, limbs failing until he falls off the bed and lands on the floor with a resounding thud.

“Ow.”

“Jared, is that you?” He manages to drop his voice to a more normal range.

“Uh...yup. I’m right here, just give me a moment.”

Jensen uses the brief reprieve to feel his back. Nothing. No face, no scars; just organs covered by ribs, muscle, and his own pale, freckle dusted skin.

Jared stands up, and Jensen stifles a quick gasp, because Jared might have started out in his back, but he’s also the most attractive man he’s ever seen.

Jared smirks at him; he must have read the look on Jensen’s face.

“I do believe you promised me the best feeling of my life, and then failed to deliver.”

Jensen’s speechless as Jared kneels down and pushes his thighs aside, so he can slot his dick against Jensen’s.

“Not my fault you decided it’d be the perfect moment to pop out of my back,” Jensen mumbles. He’s giving himself an A-plus for coherency right now, because Jared’s dick and balls are rubbing back and forth against his, and if he hadn’t come earlier, he’d definitely be shooting off by now.

“If you don’t mind,” Jared says with a grin “I’d really like to get back inside your body.”

Jensen’s about ready to push him off for that, but then he notices that Jared has dimples.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you would, big boy, maybe next time. Too much work right now.”

Jared gives him the wounded puppy look again, until Jensen spits in his hand and pulls both of their dicks into his tight hand.

Jared pushes down into him as Jensen thrusts up against him. The room is quiet with the exception of harsh panting and the sound of taught stomachs and balls slapping against each other. Then Jared reaches down, takes Jensen’s lips with his, and their bodies seem to meld together.

Jared comes first, making Jensen’s cock slippery with come, and it’s just another few strokes, and then Jensen’s coming again—less this round, but without the horrific pain from last time, and he’ll take what he can get.

“Ughh. We have to clean this up before it dries,” He explains to Jared. “Otherwise it just gets really itchy, and no one likes that.”  
After throwing a wash cloth, and his largest clothes in Jared’s direction, he feels a growling start in his stomach.

“I’m hungry. You hungry, Jared?”

Jared looks excited.

“I’ve, uh, never actually eaten before, but it sounds exciting.”

Jensen laughs and shakes his head.

“I bet you’ll love pizza. Everyone likes pizza.”

Jensen watches Jared demolish the pepperoni pizza slice by slice. He’ll need to think of a better story to tell his parents and friends when they ask how he met Jared. For some reason he doesn’t think _“Y’all, this is Jared, he popped out of my back a few days ago, we had sex, now we’re dating” is going to cut it._

When Jared’s finished, he looks up at Jensen, grease shinning on his lips and smiles, dimples in full force.

“So, uh, when can we get a dog?”

Jensen groans.

He groans because Jared’s never seen Apocalypse Now, The Boondock Saints, or Gladiator. He’s never read Fitzgerald, Shakespeare, or even Orson Scott Card. He’s never played football, or ice hockey. He hasn’t spent a weekend at the Ocean or seen the Grand Canyon. He’s clearly never owned a dog.

And despite his general inclination towards grumpiness, Jensen can’t wait to be there for all of Jared’s firsts.

After they figure out how forge a birth certificate and a social security number.


End file.
